The Last Days of Summer 2009

Here it is the last Friday in August and the summer of 2009 is nearing a close. We’re having record breaking heat here in San Diego where it’s 97 degrees at the coast and if you go inland you can find your way to 120 degrees, that is if you can make it that far before shriveling up to something resembling a Fig Newton. According to the weather map my sister Anna is enjoying a nice sunny 66 degree day back in Cape Elizabeth (Portland) Maine. Speaking of Maine I feel the need to recap our wonderful 3 week vacation back in New England. It was glorious. The weather was perfect, even the small amount of rain we had which Lauren and I had been missing. We got to hang out with Amber, Tommie, Maya and the Bo and the Dee (Lauren’s parents) for a while in Magnolia. One of the first orders of business was to EAT LOBSTER! We succeeded by hooking up with local Gloucester Lobsterman Chuck Parisi at his boat just as he came in after hauling his traps. We bought ten alive and kick’ in beauties, rushed them home and popped them in the pot. Mmmm….two lobsters each with melted butter, corn of the cob and some Ipswich Ale IPA….I was in heaven. We took a few sunset walks around Shore Road. I walked up to Dunkin Donuts every morning for a cup of coffee and kept running into people I haven’t seen for years and we just picked up where we left off. We saw our dear friends Doug and Ellen Guidry, had a cookout and sang songs around a wood fire accompanied by guitar, mandolin, a newly Doug-built washtub string base and a “boom-box” instrument that Jonathan Phalen’s dad bought about 20 years ago at FAO Schwartz. We went swimming at Black Beach at low tide, caught crabs and dug clams out of the sand for fun and then let them go and we went swimming at Half Moon Beach. Lauren went out with her friends sometimes while I just went out with Amber and Tommie or just met the locals. We walked in Ravenswood Park. We danced at the Cruise port Terminal on a Tuesday night with a cast of many friends and even an old flame of Lauren’s to the music of Bob Cooney and Mike McNair…..Aimee…what you going to do?.....I think…I could stay with you….for a while maybe longer…if I dooo…..
The next phase of the trip was to head Down East to the easternmost point in the United States…Lubec, Maine where my youngest brother, Basil III was getting married to Kelly. This was a good time to see and hang out with a large chunk of my family all at once. In addition to seeing my mother, brother, sisters and all my beautiful nieces and nephews I was able to spend time with my Aunt Helen and Cousin Susan. It was the first time I had seen Helen since my Uncle Don had passed away last December. The day before the wedding Helen, Susan, Tommie, Maya, Lauren and myself went over to Campobello Island, Canada and took a tour of Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s summer home, inspected the beauty of the island and yes, ate more seafood. At the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding there was yet another campfire where many of us older adults sang impromptu campfire songs and show tunes while the kids ran around the field chasing and scaring each other in the dark. The wedding went off with the appropriate “hitch”. Have a blast Basil and Kelly and thanks for everything.
Now we were heading to the mountains of Maine near the New Hampshire border and there are no quick and easy roads that go east and west in Maine, but that’s okay because I’m on vacation and I do not want quick or even easy. I love the curvy, windy, wooded two lane road and if it’s dirt, all the better. Our first stop though was to stop in and visit my sister Lily and the army of Deans. They live in Orono near Bangor which is on the way westward. My sister Lily and her husband Artie are a prolific couple and have 9 children. When we arrived they were all there and so we were lucky enough to see everyone and spend a couple of hours together. It was short but so sweet. Lily’s kids are so well mannered it scares me. I would joke with Amber and Eva occasionally that we should have shipped them up to spend a summer with Lily. The kids offered and brought us out coffee, tea and water. I was able to order a special espresso with mine. Then they just hung out while we sat in the garden they built for Lily while she was recovering from her breast cancer. They participated in our conversation right down to the youngest. Some are talented musicians, others like art, all of them are loving.
Later that night we made it to our destination of Bethel, Maine. Not that long ago my Aunt Helen informed me that this was where Uncle Don’s mother grew up as a child. We rented a nice house in the village after spending the first night in a B&B. Lauren went swimming in Howard Pond, we had chicken fried steak at the Funky Red Barn and because Lauren was worn out I went by myself to “Hoot-Nite” at Suds Pub where every Thursday the local talent plays live music and yes the locals are talented. On another fine evening we had some Korean Food at Cho-Sun with our friends Cynthia and Paul Handlen. We took in the pace of Bethel which is mellow and slow. How slow? Well one morning I went to talk a walk down by the Androscoggin River and as I was headed down Main Street Paul Handlen noticed me and stopped his jeep in the middle of the street while we chatted for a minute or so. No worries, no traffic, no rush....when I compare that scene with what happens when I head out around here in San Diego I realize I am at the very opposite end of the spectrum.
After five nights in Bethel we stopped in to visit my brother Erik and Amy, Logan and Rachel. They bought a house last year in Saco, Maine and it’s a really nice home in a really nice neighborhood. I’m happy for them. This too was too short a visit. We then made it back to Gloucester that night so that early the next morning Amber, Tommie and me could help out long time friend and coach J.D. MacEachern in the first ever Gloucester Triathlon. Our job was to help direct runners at a critical intersection where on the first lap they had to take a left and on the second lap they had to go straight to the finish line. Because faster athletes tend to pass the slower ones some runners at this point would need to go different directions and despite our bullhorn instructions, signs, flags and others yelling out the same instruction we realized many of these participants were in pain. They had already swum 1/3 mile in the harbor, biked 15 miles and were now finishing up a 2.9 mile run. I’m sure their bodies were trying to pump as much oxygen to their leg muscles and all their ears could hear was…wha,wha,wha,wha,left,,,wha,wha,wha,straight. So a few went straight when they should have gone left but overall it went well. I can’t recall how many times we met up with friends and acquaintances or how much seafood we ate on this vacation but I can tell you it was all good and on the one to ten scale of enjoyment this summer vacation of 2009 was voted a big 10 by both judges.

A BARN IN NEW ENGLAND by Joseph Monninger and other Barn Thoughts

Every now and then I read a book that draws me in deep. A Barn in New England has done just that. It put me right at the location and the experiences that author Joseph Monninger writes about. From the very first moment he and Wendy view the barn in the dead of a snowy winter day, where I could smell the cold, to the longer summer days and nights of installing a fence, planting gardens and renovating the barn with insulation, new beams, and a new kitchen I felt as if I was right there, helping with all of these tasks. To be honest the reason it was so easy for me to relate to this story is because Lauren and I have been talking and dreaming about doing something quite similar in nearby Maine. We’ve looked at a number of houses over the past two years with barns and haven’t quite figured out how to make it all work but we are still trying. Lauren gave this book to me as a Father’s Day gift and it has proved to be one of my all time favorites.

Being in an old Post and Beam Barn to me is perhaps what many feel when they step into a church. It’s a spiritual experience, Nirvana. One of my first experiences as a 7 to 10 year old was visiting the horse barn of the Ames Estate in North Easton, MA where I would bring my bike to the caretaker Paul Simmons who would fix my broken chain or flat tire. I can still conjure up the smell of the hay, the wood and the leather from the tack shop. It was so quiet and peaceful. With the nearby tall mature shade trees it was also nice and cool on a hot summer day.

A few years later my family moved to Lakeville, MA and I was lucky enough to get a job during the summer as a 12 to 13 year old working on Wilkes Dairy Farm earning $1.30 an hour. My job was to weed the vegetable garden and sometimes feed the cows in the barn when they came in for milking but my favorite job was haying. Picking up bales of hay in the field which weighed probably between 40 and 80 pounds depending on moisture content and where they were cut and throwing them up to another person on a flatbed truck as it rolled slowly up and down the field. The higher the stack of hay got on the truck the higher I would have to throw that bale. Boy did I build some muscle back then. The afternoons were usually sunny, hot and humid so we would sweat hard and the chafe from the hay would stick to our sweaty arms, face, and neck. Then we had to take the truck to the barn and unload the bales in the hayloft. Like an attic the hayloft was often hot as you stagger stacked the bales so they would tie in together much like cinder blocks. At the end of an exhausting day it was down to the coolest part of the barn in the shade where we would chomp on big juicy pieces of pink watermelon where the juice would run down your chin, chest, and on to your arms. I was one sweaty, dirty, juicy and tired farmhand but it felt so…oh good.

In my late teens I rented a house near Freedom, Maine where a local neighbor raised chickens and ducks on a commercial scale. Big three story barns with a thousand chickens and lots of chicken shit and wood shavings to clean out once the chickens were hauled off to market. As you can imagine it could be considered a nasty job but with a dust mask and appropriately timed breaks to drink Old Milwaukee beer we seemed to happily get the job done in amazingly quick fashion.
So perhaps because of my fond memories of the smells and good feelings found in a good old barn I long to have one now of my very own. One I can bang a big nail in the beam and not feel like I am doing damage to anything. One where I can hang my poster of Farrah Fawcett (may you rest in peace, Farrah) that Amber and Tommie gave to me as a birthday gift a few years ago because they knew I wanted one for my barn dream. One where I can have my own workshop and build things out of wood; guitars, furniture, anything I want. One where I can invite friends and family over and drink Old Milwaukee beer. One where I can find Nirvana.

Front Doors and Porches of North and South Park

Current construction fashion in California and many other parts of the nation favor “gated communities” and “restrictive covenants” which tell you as the homeowner just what color and tone of that color you may paint your front door. Now I understand why some rules may be desirable, after all not everyone wants a double wide mobile home with cars jacked up on the front lawn in various states of repair placed next to their architectural crafted home. However, if we all agree to live in Vanilla homes with Vanilla doors it begins to look very boring and I would submit we begin to turn to Vanilla-mush, the perfect Stepford neighbors. The Craftsman Bungalows of North and South Park in San Diego were built during a time where the quality of construction was more important than the efficiency and cost of that construction and where getting to know your neighbor was an important function of the community. These homes were built on a human scale, where although small were big enough to raise a family, were close enough where to could yell over to your neighbor to borrow that cup of sugar and had porches to sit on the rocking chair in the early evening and chat with your neighbors as they took their walk past your doorway. Consider the new designs of today where the drive in garage is the predominant attribute and once in the owner closes the door behind them as they enter the house from inside never to see their neighbor perhaps for months and years. I love the inviting feel of the doors and front porches on these Craftsman homes in North and South Park and before I move away someday I want to be sure I have some photos to remind me of their pleasing architecture. The following homes were some of my favorites located on 28th Street and Pershing Avenue between Upas Street and University Avenue.

THE COMPASS by Tammy Kling and John Spencer Ellis

How many summers or falls do you have left?
This is just one of the many profound questions and statements found in this easy to read story. Jonathan found himself in an unfathomable tragedy and he could not comprehend what to do about it, how to live within it. So he started walking away from it. On this journey he begins to meet people who have or have had hardships of their own and all of them have wisdom and a lifestyle they share with Jonathan. Each person who teaches Jonathan a lesson also teaches you a lesson as you read this book. This book is very inspirational.
So how many summers or falls do you have left? At age 51 I could say twenty or thirty reasonably but it is possible that this is the last one. I know… what a morbid thought. But it’s also a true realization. There are no guarantees in life. So what do I do? Live it like it’s the last one seems like a good idea.

The Coping Saw

The first time I used a coping saw was in 7th or 8th grade woodshop class for making a Colonial style candle holder. Before that moment I had only cut wood in a straight line, well mostly straight. I thought it was so cool that I could give wood a shape and with a little sandpaper make it look good. So today I went to North Park Hardware on University Ave and bought myself a Coping Saw for $9.98. I took it home and made the simple yet practical item you see in the photos. It is a support board for the wooden rod in my daughter’s closet which spans eight feet and tries to hold the 500 pounds of clothes that hang on it. Placed in the middle this should help the cause.

Stupid Ass Award May 2009; Guaranty Bank of Austin

When does common sense prevail? Not when Guaranty Bank of Austin ponders what to do about some homes in Victorville, CA they can’t sell. They recently decided to demolish brand new homes instead of finding a common sense way to dispose of these holdings. The logic was it would have cost them approximately $1,000,000 to complete the project versus $100,000 to tear down those homes which were recently completed. Okay….did they offer them to anyone for $1.00, or $10,000, or the cost of finishing those which were partially completed? It doesn’t appear that way. From what I can tell 4 of the 16 homes in this subdivision were completed. One reader commentary suggested that basic infrastructure like sewer; water and electric weren’t brought into the site yet. I don’t buy it. These are usually the first things to be brought into a site before the building begins. You mean to tell me the model home didn’t have electricity?

Guaranty Bank of Austin had the chance to do something good. Give a well deserving family in the Victorville area a brand new home at an incredible deal. Instead they did a bottom line analyses with no human heart thought of greater possibilities. For this they earn my first Stupid Ass Award. I know there are many others who were dumbfounded by Guaranty’s action in Victorville so let me make a suggestion on how to send a message to the bank they might understand. If you are currently a bank customer of Guaranty Bank of Austin and equally disgusted by their decision to demolish these homes consider taking your money out of their bank and put it with one that has common sense. Be sure to let them know why you are closing and transferring your account. Perhaps if they realize customers are willing to withdraw millions of dollars in deposits because of their bonehead decision they’ll realize it did cost them more than just $100,000. This is probably a moot suggestion however because The Office of Thrift Supervision (OTS) recently ordered Guaranty Bank to meet a core capital ratio of at least 8 percent and a risk-based capital ratio of at least 11 percent and Guaranty said in a regulatory filing that "management believes, based upon presently available unaudited financial information, that the bank does not meet the required capital ratios set forth above." So… if the bank does not meet the required capital levels by May 21, Guaranty said, it would adopt plans to merge with or be acquired by another financial institution, or face liquidation. Rocks of Ruck.

If you haven’t seen the video on this act of stupidity then click here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Ilayp2ykts

The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch with Jeffrey Zaslow

What do you do when you know you’re going to die? Before your time. You have three young children, a loving wife, a good job, and you’re in the prime of your life, but without a doubt you have less than a year to live and there is no cure. In the case of Randy Pausch, who many people know his story, you make the most of each and every remaining day and you leave a message with a lesson, or many lessons. Randy Pausch who was dying of terminal pancreatic cancer left us a video and a book titled “The Last Lecture.” In his book you’ll find that he is an optimist and a goal achiever. One way or another he managed to achieve many of his childhood dreams. The best take away line from the book in talking about setbacks or roadblocks to ones goal was “The brick walls are there for a reason. They’re not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.” This book should make you think, cry, and appreciate what you have and what is possible while you are alive.